


TommyInnit Meets the Fam :)

by Lowkey_Tired



Series: Tommy’s Family [2]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Author is a TommyInnit Apologist (Video Blogging RPF), Character Study, Fluff, Gen, Hurt TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt/Comfort, I guess third person is too, M/M, Mentioned Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Toby Smith | Tubbo, Mentioned Wilbur Soot, Other, POV First Person, POV Second Person, POV Third Person, Slow Burn, Tags are fun now, TommyInnit is an honorary lesbian, TommyInnit-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Whoops meant, Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings, Winged TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), like jesus christ, second person is so much fun, straight couple? Never heard of em, thats his whole vibe man
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-20 22:28:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30011892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lowkey_Tired/pseuds/Lowkey_Tired
Summary: After what? Three, four weeks in this village?Tommy’s gotta say that it’s really...developed for a usual village you’d find, then again it might depend on the area they live in and it’s surrounding terrain. What still really confuses him is their market.How the hell do they get so much fish anyway? And who needs that much fish too?!(Tommy winds up in a really unique village with unique new trade systems, looks like you don’t need to heal zombie villagers for discounts, huh?)
Relationships: Clay | Dream & TommyInnit, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Series: Tommy’s Family [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2180595
Comments: 2
Kudos: 73





	TommyInnit Meets the Fam :)

**Author's Note:**

> Tommy gonna meet the fam today, hooray!
> 
> I gotta say I thought long and hard for this book, since I want it to be longer then the first story and have a bit more depth into it. The last first was like a short summary or trailer of this series whole premise. Where I try my hand at this whole fanfic thing. Here’s where we get DEEP bois.

A mans gotta admit one thing, the ocean is a very scary thing yet so very essential and confusing as well.

I mean, how do these people have so much fucking fish? I look left, fish. I look right, more fish. I look behind, can ya guess what’s there? Yup, more bloody fish!

I mean sure there’s a couple farms here chock full of animals or crops growing on fields near by them, but they really do seem to live on this shit. I mean the lad I stayed with for the first week had an iced brimmed chest full of em.

Jay, that’s his name right? Yeah. A nice albino fellow with the decency to let me do my own jazzam, as well as not bothering to give me any pity gifts. (Well unless you count the food, which I actually could get or make myself thank you very much I’m just saying.) I quite like him, he reminds me of cat since the small guy doesn’t want attention unless he wants it himself, or if he just gets real lazy in the middle of the day he’ll take a nap. Learned that first one during a dinner later into the week, was quite a peculiar sight really.

Well that only lasted a week, not the whole ‘friendship’ deal that was still sorta going but the ‘staying at his place’ deal. I was sick of the way I felt indebted to this guy, so I moved to a place not that far from the village. People in this old fish town apparently have an abandoned house just by the bottom of the cliffs nearby with a nice looking river by it as well. 

Place looked so fucking lit, even with it being all old and mushy. It had two main bedrooms from what I saw and a living room, bathroom, and large kitchen are as well. I decided to give it an old TommyInnit and Mellohi touch. Plus those cliffs could come in handy later on, regarding the fucking appendages on my bloody back. At least I could tuck them into my back around these villagers, hurts like a mother fucking bitch tho.

Still, why yellow? 

And while Wilbur’s trench coat was comforting in a sick sense, I really did need a new jacket. Life by the ocean is apparently really cold. Go figure huh? Besides this place has some boldly damn good markets that are open pretty often, not Saturdays tho, and the product from a first glance just looks so fucking sick. Like high quality shit you get for great amounts of money. So damn awesome, honest to God. 

So here I am now, on a nice Monday morning at around 7:00 am, (the communicator makes for a great watch and calendar) when I spot the place I’m looking for. A nice little clothing stand by the docks that sells these really unique jackets (as well as other clothing products) that look so fucking warm. And soft. The owner seems to be available right now, as he’s not being crowded by a bunch of other pushy customers. I was the reason I came here so early anyway. 

“Uh, excuse me sir?” I got the guys attention almost immediately.

“Oh!- Hello there! Can I help you with anything today? Or are you only looking for now?”

“I’m looking for a long lasting jacket or, trench coat even, for the impending days of freezing my goddamn ass off.” That got a laugh out of the man. I feel like I’m being mocked right now. 

“Why yes we do have some clothing of the sorts available right now, please take a look and see what you like. I can only hope it solves your issues.” 

“Will do. Thanks man.”

Their dialect is really strange, it’s more formal then what I’m accustomed to. Anyway with that introduction out of the way, it was time to be introduced to my new jacket. Oh I’ll be so warm and cosy. Like a marshmallow, or s’more. I wonder if I can get Mellohi one. Oh that would be so pog. So very pog of me to do. 

Back to the task at hand, a new jacket. I mean they all look nice, if not down right regal. I did however catch sight of one beauty among these other chads of jackets. A nice trench coat like jacket that appears to have fucking wool stitched into the inside. Then you got the design. It was simple red jacket with white on its sleeves. Oh God I’m getting flashbacks to my old shitty shirt, that I threw out since it quite literally fell apart. 

“How much is this one sir?” The owner turned towards me, then focusing his attention on the jacket I was holding.

“If I had say on what would be a fair trade, how about five emeralds?”

“I can pay that just fine mister.”

“Well alrighty them! For that jacket your holding, you’ll have to trade me five emeralds for it, fair?” 

Ah, the old ‘making a proper deal’ art. Classic. I fish out five emeralds from my money pouch, which includes all types of ores and jewels really.

“Five emeralds is a fair trade my friend. Pressure doing business with ya.”

“Same to you as well no-named-friend.”

I wheeze out a laugh at that. God I’m not good at introducing myself, huh?

“It’s Tommy. TommyInnit.”

“Well TommyInnit, my name is Jackson. I hope to see you soon.”

“To you as well Jackson.”

——————————————————

After what, five to six weeks? Yeah something around that. After five to six weeks I had to say that these people were really good at fishing. And I mean REALLY fucking good. I see a good large ship go off about once a week. Then they return with just HUGE amounts of fucking fish, prawns, crabs, ect. 

These fellows really like their sea food. That’s not the strangest thing, ohhh no man. I’ve been talking to Jay more often, maybe started to open up a bit and all that jazz, but that’s not the point. The point is when I visited one time he mentioned these old tales of sirens and krakens and shit from old pirate stories. Fun right? NOPE! Not for big man Tommy it’s not! I swear I got this apart luck man!

Now look. I’ve made a stable for Mellohi and what do horses eat? Wheat and hay of course. So I made this nice simple farm that I really only use to grow wheat. Now see, the problem is that I got a little bug coming in and stealing my produce. Now you might be thinking ‘oh it’s just a raccoon it’s fine’ no it’s bloody not! I find these little parches of seaweed all bundled up somewhere in the compost, and I know for a fact I’m not a seaweed guy. I never touch that fucking shit. 

So I came to thought that ‘Oh is someone putting seaweed into my compost?’ But add that in with the missing wheat, it’s makes no sense. Unless you count for a fish. Or more specifically a fish hybrid. Now Will had this thing going on with this salmon fish hybrid named Sally, and I know for a FACT Sally always seemed to have some sort of water plant on them. Like let’s say for example seaweed...

I decided that the next time I visit Jay, I would mention this little dilemma that’s going on to him. It’s not like I’m trying to hunt the bastard down, god no! I just want to see why they think my produce is the best route to go. I grow wheat for God sakes, not carrots or fucking potatoes. Those are actually worth while. Then again, it might be the area that my house is in... I do live quite close to water, add that with river

If that’s the case, I might have an excellent idea then. Just hope this isn’t a waste of time.

——————————————————

“So you want me to help you catch this little raccoon thief that so happens to always carry seaweed on its person? I thought it wasn’t a raccoon though?”

“Well what can I say? The nickname stuck around.”

“Well aren’t you just a charmer Tommy. People must just flock to you huh?”

Okay I had to admit, Jay has got a sense of humour in that head of his. It’s just really shit. His red eyes tho just scream ‘I think this is hilarious’. Loser.

“Wow, okay. I didn’t have to ask for help you know. So if your going to continue to be a massive Disick then just leave me to do this alone.”

“D’aww! I’m sorry Tommy. I actually do wanna help ya out. It’s the least I can do for a fiend.”

Friend, huh? That’s oddly nice to hear honestly. I must’ve just been too lonely these past few months. Yeah, definitely not because this asshole is nice to be around. Nope!

“Alright well, I want set up a carrot farm,” ‘cause fuck potatoes’ “ so that they’re interested in that instead of my wheat farm. Mellohi needs all hay he can get man.”

“I like it. And besides if you catch this little thief, then you gotta ‘nother farm to help ya out. It’s a win-win situation right now, yeah?”

Big J did have a point here. As much as I love bread, it’s not all I can eat. Besides carrots got fucking nutrition or some shit in them that might actually help me in the long run.

So that’s how he rest of our day went. First it was to decide where to put the farm. I tried to convince Big J that near me house was the best option, but noooo the little raccoon thief would just be too scared to go near my home. And while yes, that is a good point I still brought up it would help catch them faster. The faster the better as I say.

Jay however thought that closer to the beach may work out more efficiently, so it’s still in view of my houses front windows but far enough to tempt the raccoon out of hiding to get food that night. If they’re even in the water, which is highly likely. That seaweed is getting annoying to find, but it does work as compost, so I guess it could be a lot worse.

So we made a compromise, the farm would be in the front are of my home and not the side like I said earlier, it would be by the front porch. No fence surrounding it for now, and inciting enough for my little thief to come out of their shit hole. Besides I even suggested leaving a little gift out for them, not cause of Jay’s insistence, but because the nights out here get real fucking freezing.

So I left out a nice coat, that I got from Jackson, for the little raccoon thief after Jay went home when I decided to grace him with a meal for tonight. By the next day, a few carrots (not any wheat was taken this time round) were missing and the coat was gone. Any evidence of someone really being there was a seaweed looking crown by my front door.

So I continued this little routine for two weeks, of replanting my crops and leaving out a bit of food and a little gift, be it bracelet I made or a trinket I got at the market that day, and was then met the next morning with my own gifts. The gifts consist of seaweed crowns or shells you cannot find that easily. They did look pretty as fuck tho. And the crowns weren’t the worst quality either.

I don’t know why I continue with the fucking gifts, it just wastes my materials. It felt nice tho, when I get a gift back. It felt like my pride doubles each time I try confirmation that my gifts were good enough. So tonight I wanted to try something different tonight. I just hope I don’t fuck this up.

It was around 9:46 at night and here I was, sitting on my porches steps reading a pretty worn out book about old school fighting and myths that involves those who made those said techniques, when I heard a splash. I didn’t move a muscle. I heard light footsteps to quiet to be an adults. I didn’t move then either.

I had a lantern by me, but I guess that didn’t stop the fucking menus from coming closer. Ballsy mother fucker let me tell ya man. I guess they caught sight of me, since the noise of feet shuffling came to an abrupt stop. I still didn’t move, however I did decide to do the next best thing. Hum.

Now Wilbur used to hum when I was scared or upset. It was embarrassing at the time but still worked out in those times. And judging by they the footsteps start to get closer, meaning they’re comfortable to get closer to me now, I’d say I would thank Wilbur for this one time his stupid habits came in handy. 

The little bugger decided they were just too comfortable, and decided to just plop themselves next to me. I guess my humming and gifts previously worked out to well. I glanced over next to me to see what I was working with, only to suddenly met with big greeny-blue eyes right by my face. I flinched and stopped humming, but still didn’t even think of working my muscles. I worked too hard for this chance and I’m not failing now.

The kid seemed to be around five maybe six, which explains why they were so ballsy, and had these sick looking fins on their tanned out arms and legs. Greeny-blue scales on their cheeks and shoulder from what I can see. Webbed out ears that remind me of an elf’s ear shape. I thought I could see a tail, but I didn’t want to move to look in case that spooked them too much. So I just went back to reading. Instead of humming however, I decided to switch things up and instead read out what I was reading, test the waters I guess.

“The way that blocking and sliding come hand-in-hand is that they both help to protect the body from extreme external and internal damage. “

I felt a head on my shoulder, guess they wanted to see what I was reading. Let me tell ya big man TommyInnit wanted to move so bloody bad, since I was starting to get cramps in my damn legs, but I was too damn stubborn to move while I had them here.

“By the way kid” I noticed their eyes on me now and not on the book, “I didn’t bring out your food with me tonight, since the villagers needed me for most of the day. But if you trust me enough I can make you something now. Actually nod if ya can get what I saying kid, if ya would please.”

All I got back was a happy sounding chirp that sounded like a dolphins and a nod that yes, they trust me and understand me just fine. God this kid is so fucking trusting it hurts my chest. I should get that checked out later

“Well if ya could get off me shoulder, I can make ya some nice warm bread. Should take only an hour at the most.” I am so not used to using a soft voice. I just think that yelling at a kid would more bad then good. Yeah, that’s all there is to it.

I felt the weight lift off my shoulder almost instantly. I slowly rise to my feet and make sure to bookmark my book. Looking behind me I find the kid standing there, in the same coat I gave him the fist night I made my ‘trap’ and along with this goofy smile on they’re face. God kids are too good at those.

Opening my door slowly and letting my guest in first, I make a show that the door is unlocked, easy to open and that they can leave anytime they wish too. All they do is chirp at me and let themselves in.

Can I just say that making bread while a kid is staring at you while your at work can make you feel as if your a mother with a really needy kid. Weird analogy but it works. But yeah the kid makes no move to leave for now, even letting themselves explore my shitty household. Quite endearing if it weren’t for the fact that this kid trusts me like I’m their actual fucking farther. That’s just...not natural right? Shouldn’t they be at least a bit more suspicious of me?

Then again, I gave them gifts and food every night, hell they’re wearing the coat I gave as they’re main clothing choice! Other then their shirt and pants, the kid had the large coat engulfing their small form. They’re skinny, too skinny to be considered healthy. They had no scars other then a few little ones that might’ve came falling or scrapping himself. They were too young to be alone. They look fucking five for Christ sakes!

I cool my self off by putting the beaten to death bread batter in the oven, putting the timer on for forty minutes. I then feel a tug on my pant leg. Looking down I see the kid smiling up at me, with a book in their hand. God, I’m not soft I fucking swear they’re just too damn good at persuading me. I let them guide to the couch, and after sitting myself down I felt the kid settle himself beside me looking up at me expectedly. Little fucking raccoon.

Looking at the books title I’m met with a animal facts book. Interesting choice but I can’t really judge em. I let them choose the pages and we end up knowing a lot more about certain creatures then I thought was needed. And the kid was being doing okay as I let myself get out of the whole soft and cautious persona. Not my style. The kid seemed to enjoy it even, so I can’t really say it was a bad experience. Our reading was cut short however by the timer going off.

“Well, come on you little raccoon. Dinners ready.”

I watch as they race to the dinner table making themselves comfy in a sit closest to the couch, not the door. I get up and take the bread out. Thank god for my past cooking experiences with Nicky or else I’d be serving burnt shit right now.

“Say ya little raccoon. What’s your name anyway? I never bothered ask till now.”

Between the chirps and the kids face being stuffed with food, I can understand the name ‘Apollo’ out of that mess of a sentence.

‘Apollo? Like that Greek Mythology God shit that Technoblade was all ‘bout!? You have got to be shitting me right now.’

They didn’t appear to be joking around. Only looking up at me with their innocent filled eyes. They’re chirps were similar to a birds, just more wobbly and what not. The distraction didn’t work, fuck!

‘You may have ruined my past, but you will not ruin my future!’ A mantra, something that Jay suggested when I make for myself when I off handedly mentioned my experiences with large fights in one of our conversation. Was not my original intention but it worked out alright. Jay is just annoyingly nice and understanding like that, sometimes I hate it.

“Well the Apollo, how do you feel about getting some shut eye? Unless you want to leave then I ain’t gonna stop ya.” 

Apollo just shook they’re head, and made fucking grabby-hands towards me! Now I know I’m in to deep. Even more so when they say “Want birdy!”

I can’t say I didn’t expect, I thought as I move to pick them up, since they themselves are a hybrid. But for a one so young to see through my ‘disguise’ is quite impressive. So I do what anyone would’ve done. I leave that problem for future Tommy. Present Tommy has a bloody kid to put to bed. God want is my life?

“You want any water before we go up? I can imagine you might need enough for now and in the morning, right you little raccoon?”

That earned me an appreciation chirp. Apollo made themselves comfortable in my arms as I move to my ice brimmed chest to get some cold water. I pull out a large bottle that has ice in it. Just about perfect. As we make our ways up stairs I make a detour to grab the book we were reading earlier. Apollo seemed to like reading it so why not?

When we reach to the guest bedroom, I let the small kid hold onto the book as I open the door. Teamwork fuckers, nothing else. I place the little fish hybrid into the bed, making sure they’re comfortable before I give them the bottled water. The rat-bag scolds about half of it before they’re good. They makes these littles cooing sounds that I believe mean thank you? I’m a bird, not a fish. Speaking of being a bird...

I decide to just ‘fuck it’ and let the fuckers out. Let me tell ya when I at that feels good, I honest to any god listening it feels so damn nice. I watch as they smiles at the action, chirping away at my display. Now I would say I didn’t smile at his excitement, but I am no liar.

Looking up at my dulled out yellow wings I see that they need a bit of maintenance work before they’re in tip-top shape. I haven’t really touched them since I first got them. They were su h a bright yellow when they first came through. I was just too into denial I guess.

But I think, looking back to Apollo’s happy grin and awed face, I can learn to accept them as my own.

——————————————————

“That’s the little Raccoon thief?”

“Yup.”

“That you caught last night.”

“Yup.”

“And he just so happens to think of you as a farther figure now?”

“Yup.”

“And you have had these wings hidden in your back for around 2 months now, and decide to let them out cause you’ve finally accepted them?”

“Also yup.”

“So know you want me to help clean out your wings so they can stop itching and be more ‘obedient’ towards you?”

“If ya wouldn’t mind.”

“I’m more strung on the fact you basically adopted a fish kid then your wings Tommy. Never took you for that type of guy.”

“Me neither, now will you please help with my wings? They’re getting really fucking annoying.”

“Oh, yeah sure thing Tommy. Anything specific I should know beforehand though?”

I though about that for a moment, before I remember that Phill would always some sort of noise or chirp when we touched his wings. Either it be intentional or not.

“I might make some interesting noises, so don’t mind them too much, alright?”

“Aye-aye captain.”

Sitting on the beach, watching my, at this point in time, kid play in the water and have my closest and only friend help with my wings as he sits on a bench behind me is not what I was expecting to happen a few months prior to before I found this fishing village. Hell my past self three years in the past would laugh at me situation.

I was not laughing, actually quite the opposite. I was in a calm state surprisingly. It might be the fact that I’m in the sun, or that watching Apollo swim around was an interesting sight to see. Who knows, definitely not this guy here let me tell ya that. 

“I’m gonna start from the end of your right wing with mostly the main feathers first. I’ll do your primary’s first, the your secondary’s. I’ll then repeat this for your left wing, alright?”

“Yeah, that’s all good Big J.”

All I hear is chuckle before I’m met with euphoria. Jays hands were delicate, small and slightly calloused from his fortnightly fishing trips. All I can describe it as was just utterly amazing. The feeling of having my wings being taken care of by someone I trust was so damn good. I can feel myself leaning backward into the hands, only slightly aware of my surroundings and the noises I’m making in that moment. The chirps of appreciation, that I’m sure that are the loudest, are all my bird brain can hope are being read correctly the most. 

The feeling of itchiness leaving almost instantly as my wing is being cared for. I am only slightly aware of the absence sounds of splashing in the distance, only for that thought to be tuned out by my damn, fucking good wing massage.

The hands leave for a second too long, causing me to feel slight want from missing feeling. That was until a new pair of hands focus on my right wing as Jays move onto my left wing, almost instantly causing my hindbrain to chant ‘flock, flock, flock’. These feelings and thoughts were all new, weird, nice, calming and all that, all at the same time. I could tell the second pair of hands was Apollo from they’re scaled palms and fingertips to his small, soft shaped hands. 

I could hear the two talking, just didn’t bother trying to understand them. Only continuing to vomit out chirps and coos at the movements on my wings.

If this ain’t heaven I don’t want any other version of it. 

By the time the two finished, I was a relaxed man ready to pass out. I did notice that Jay picked me up, so my dumb bird brain just wanted to get comfortable. Snuggling into his chest, I could feel his chuckle from the movements of his chest. However at this point in time and moment, I was to tired to care what the fuck he was laughing at.

Next thing I know, I wake up the next morning with Apollo by my side and Jay sleeping on the end of the bed. I think all I can say was that I might need to learn how to handle those, what were they called again? Preening sessions, at least I think that’s what they are.

Though I gotta say, if my good karma for looking after Apollo was a good wing cleaning. I’m in man.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m thinking of different ways this could go, but most of them have a good experience, maybe hurt here or there you never know :)


End file.
